"Now, here is a find!" he cried. "Look at the address in green at the top: '15, Downend Terrace.' Five sheets of my own best notepaper, printed especially for myself, in this basket! Originally this was a block of six sheets, but the one has been written upon and the others crushed up like this. Beyond doubt the paper was stolen from my study. And--what's this?"
He held up the thick paper to the light. At the foot of the top sheet was plainly indented in outline the initials "D. S."
"My own cipher," David went on. "Scrawled in so boldly as to mark on the under sheet of paper. Almost invariably I use initials instead of my full name unless it is quite formal business."
"And what is to be done now?" Ruth asked.
"Find the letter forged over what looks like a genuine cipher," David said, grimly.
Bell followed Dr. Cross into the hospital with a sense of familiar pleasure. The cool, sweet smell of the place, the decorous silence, the order of it all appealed to him strongly. It was as the old war-horse who sniffs the battle from afar. And the battle with death was ever a joy to Bell.
"This is all contrary to regulations, of course," he suggested.
"Well, it is," Cross admitted. "But I am an enthusiast, and one doesn't often get a chance of chatting with a brilliant, erratic star like yourself. Besides, our man is not in the hospital proper. He is in a kind of annexe by my own quarters, and he scoffs the suggestion of being nursed."
Bell nodded, understanding perfectly. He came at length to a brilliantly-lighted room, where a dark man with an exceedingly high forehead and wonderfully piercing eyes was sitting up in bed. The dark eyes lighted with pleasure as they fell upon Bell's queer, shambling figure and white hair.
"The labour we delight in physics pain," he greeted with a laugh and a groan. "It's worth a badly twisted shoulder to have the pleasure of seeing Hatherly Bell again. My dear fellow, how are you?"
The voice was low and pleasant, there was no trace of insanity about the speaker. Bell shook the proffered hand. For some little time the conversation proceeded smoothly enough. The stranger was a good talker; his remarks were keen and to the point.
"I hope you will be comfortable here," Bell suggested.